


Candy and Cider

by Taeyangthesun



Category: Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator
Genre: Fluff, Game Spoilers, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, POV First Person, Post-Canon, Post-Loss, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-12-08 00:53:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11635533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taeyangthesun/pseuds/Taeyangthesun
Summary: There in my driveway at a surprising early hour (for him at least), was Robert. He was dressed in his signature jacket and jeans, his sunglasses hanging down the collar of his shirt. His hair was combed and his clothes were freshly ironed. He stood leaning against his pick-up truck, a lollipop in his mouth, and a bottle of apple cider in his hand.He smirked. “I told’ya I’d honk.”[Post-run, Robert's good ending]Our Daddy’s been feeling a little down after Amanda left for college. Luckily for us, Robert comes honking at his door.





	Candy and Cider

**Author's Note:**

> Dadsona doesn’t have a name. Feel free to insert your own into the story :)

“Always check the card reader at ATM’s before you swipe.”

“Mm-hmm.” Amanda mumbled, mouth full of banana bread. She reached to pick up the last of the boxes stacked by the door. With my dad reflexes I quickly bundled her jacket into a ball and intercepted her hands. Taking on the burden of the box myself, I walked out the door, ignoring her sweetly scented groans.

Parked just outside the house was an olive green, second hand station wagon. Thanks to Amanda’s scholarship money, I could afford to scrape up enough dough to give her one last treat before she left for college. And the cherry on the cake were the tires spaced away from the sidewalk, perfectly parallel. We shed tears on that proud day, even if it took a few brushes of nail polish.

The trunk was open and nearly filled to the brim with boxes and bundles, all labeled and corrected. I spotted the last bit of space next to a box of “Happy/Sad ~~Shit~~ Stuff”.

I nodded my head towards the car and told Amanda, “Also, if you’re parking uphill, make sure to turn your tires towards the street.”

Amanda, instead, gestured towards the group of dads swarming around said car. Brian and Craig were binding suitcases to the roof, with Joseph and Mat serving them refreshments. It was six in the morning, the sky still a pale, chilly blue. Children scrambled around the backyard while Amanda’s more older friends looked like they were ready to pass out, all supervised by Hugo and Damien.

“Did you really have to invite the other dads to help me pack?”, she asked.

“Yes, Panda, I did.” I set down the box in the trunk a little harder than I should have. The DVD’s inside rattled. “It’s a fourteen hour drive. You need to save up your energy if you wanna get there before sundown. Now be an obedient daughter to your overly protective father and finish your banana bread.”

Surprisingly, Amanda considered it. She shrugged. “My passion for ‘nana bread burns brighter than the dying embers of my teenage rebellion. I will obey you this time, father. But be careful what you wish for.” Slipping into her jacket she took out a bundle of wax paper from her pocket, sealed and lovingly signed “Extras for your Dad—Mat :)”. The moment she unwrapped it, the smell hit me. The bananas, the vanilla, the hint of orange zest. She took a bite. I swallowed.

“Wait, I didn’t” I stuttered, “I didn’t mean all of it.”

Amanda looked me straight in the eye. Slowly, she stuffed the entire slice of banana bread in her mouth. After chewing for what seemed like an eternity, she swallowed it all with a satisfying sigh. “Just saving up my energy, pops,” she said, smacking her lips.

My eyes narrowed. “I’ve taught you well,” I said coldly, “But—” I whipped out a package of my own, signed “Extras for Amanda—Joseph :D”. I unwrapped it, revealing a thick, crunchy slab of a double edge brownie. Amanda gasped in horror, but I showed her no mercy in my revenge.

I wiped the crumbs off my face and smirked. “You still have much to learn, my two-toned daughter.” We stood there laughing as Brian and Craig finished tying the last knot, leaving us alone to go join their neighbours. We never noticed the brooding figure approach us, silently waiting for us to finish.

“Hey.”

My heart skipped a beat.

We turned around and saw Robert standing beside the car, hair combed and clothes freshly ironed. For the first time, I saw he wasn’t wearing his signature jacket and jeans, but a grey sweater and cargo pants. When our eyes met, I smiled, and he did his own Robert-y version of one, a short tug on the corner of his lips.

He was fidgeting with something in his hands.

Robert shifted his eyes towards Amanda then back to the car. He drummed his knuckles against the windows. “Nice car,” he said.

Amanda swelled with pride. “Thanks,” she said, “parked it myself.”

Robert didn’t look back. “Dashboard looks a lil’ empty though,” he said. Scratching the side of his neck, he turned his head back further and held out a small gift. “I made you something to liven it up a bit.” It was a wooden carving of a corgi with its mouth wide open, tongue lolling out. Its head and tail were attached to the body with springs, making them bobble and wag with the slightest of movement. A green ribbon was tied around its neck. “Heard you liked dogs.”

Amanda squealed. She took the dog in both of her hands and shook it, the corgi nodding violently in appreciation. She held the corgi against her cheek. “Who’s a good boy?” she babbled, “Who’s a good boy? Who’s gonna distract me when I’m on the highway while I drive myself towards a fatal car accident?”

“Sweetie...”

“I’m kidding, pops.” She turned towards Robert, who still refused to face her. “Thanks, Mr Robert,” she beamed. He grunted in reply, but I saw the corner of his mouth pull back a little further.

Robert reached into his pocket and took out a red lollipop. He unwrapped it and took a long drag, blowing a cherry flavored breeze into the sky. He gazed off into the horizon. “Car crash, huh?” he recalled, “That reminds me of a time.”

“Oh boy,” I muttered, but I only urged him on.

“Me and ol’ Betsy were out driving one night. Visiting my thinking place. The usual. When all of a sudden, she starts barking like mad. Figured she saw a deer, or was just howling it out like the beast she is. But I pulled over anyway. I’ve been hunting enough cryptids to know when something _feels_ wrong. And ol’ Betsy proved me right.”

Robert took another long drag from his lollipop. I rolled my eyes.

“It looked like a bomb blew off on the side of the road. Dirt and branches scattered everywhere. There in the middle of the mess, we saw a car thrown on its side. I rushed over, looking for a body. But I never found one. No sign the poor fellow crawled his way out either. No broken glass, no blood, no nothing. Then I saw the car, I mean really saw it. Everything around it was beaten to hell. But the car, it looked fine. Too fine. There wasn’t a dent in sight, like a two-ton toddler just tipped it over, waiting to play with it again.”

He paused. “Or maybe, something else.” I rolled my eyes again, but Amanda looked lost in the story. “For Betsy’s sake, we ran back to the truck. Did a lotta thinking back home before I made the call. They told me they didn’t see no car. But now that I think about it—” Robert pat the roof of Amanda’s car. “I remember it looking a little like yours.”

I stood there and simply stared at Robert as he finished his lollipop in musing silence, judging him.

“Don’t you think it would’ve gone for something cooler?”

Robert raised his eyebrows. Finally, he turned towards Amanda, who had her arms crossed, hand on her chin. She rubbed her imaginary beard and explained, “You know, the ghost. Even spirits have standards, don’t they? Don’t you think it would’ve possessed a nicer car, like Mr Brian’s Jeep, or maybe—” she leaned in and whispered, “Mr Joseph’s Mercedes?”

Robert smirked. “Now that’s a ghost I’d stay for.”

Amanda smirked back. “Who says it has to be a ghost?”

Robert slapped her on the shoulder, beaming with pride. “Thatta girl,” he growled. Amanda let out a ghastly howl. She lifted a leg into a crane stance and wiggled her fingers at her car. “Ghost powers, activate!” she commanded. “Bless upon me your powers, ancient spirits! Allow thine apprentice to steal a yacht next!” At that, Robert began cheering.

As a father, I wanted to warn my daughter of the dangers of disturbing forces of the unknown, as well as the legal dangers of grand larceny. But I couldn’t help but laugh with them as well.

It was almost six thirty. The sun was in the sky. The car was fully packed. Amanda was ready to leave. The other dads were heading towards us, trailing behind their children, tired but determined to say their last goodbyes. Amanda waved to her friends, old and new, promising to join them in a few minutes.

Then she turned and hugged us, both of us. From the corner of my eye I saw Robert go stiff with shock. But slowly and steadily, he rested his hands on her shoulders. I saw something in his face I never saw since the night I held him, crying in my arms. I couldn’t help but wonder how long it’s been since he was hugged by anyone else.

Amanda buried her face into our chests. “I’m gonna miss you guys. All of you,” she whispered.

“Amanda.” I bent my knee and placed my hands on her face. I wiped her eyes with my thumbs, which were starting to well up with tears. “Amanda,” I said again, gently. “Look at me, please.”

Robert took the chance to slip away, but stood watching us from a distance.

Amanda stared at me with puffy eyes. I brought her face closer to mine. I looked at her, and told her resolutely, “Don’t trust anyone who likes their meat well done.”

She let out a soft laugh. Tears streamed down her face. “Daaaad,” she moaned.

I laughed as well. “Remember the flashcards I gave you. 101 Dad Tips.” I sniffled. “I numbered them.”

“You made me made me read all of them out loud, and memorize the _important_ ones.”

“I know” I whispered. “I know.” My eyes began to well with tears.

“...Come here, Panda.” I fell to my knees embracing with my daughter. Not just my daughter. In my arms I held Saturday night airings of Ice Road Ghost Truckers with tubs of mint-chocolate ice cream, Sunday afternoons with blueberry pancakes, and weekday nights of mac and cheese. The ticking and tacking of her smartphone, the blaring midnight music, the stains of glitter and glue on the kitchen table—God, I miss it all already.

But in the end, I let her go.

I gave Amanda a few pats on the back. “Go say bye to your friends,” I said.

She tightened her grip around my neck. “Are you sure?” she mumbled into my shoulder.

“I’m sure.”

“Mega sure?”

I ruffled her hair, smelling the scent of her strawberry shampoo. “Dadtron 5000 is ultra sure.”

Amanda’s arms fell to her side. “Ok…” she breathed. Slowly, she stood up and wiped her face across her sleeve. She took a deep breath. “Ok,” she whispered. Her misty eyes beamed with confidence. She raised her fists to the sky and swerved around to face the crowd of people gathered behind her.

“Ok!” she shouted. Everyone cheered.

It all went by in a blur. Hugs were given, goodbyes were shared, more tears were shed. I watched as Amanda hopped from dad to dad, friend to friend, piling last minute gifts into the back seat. It turns out, Mat and Joseph did have more leftovers. Amanda stuffed her face with brownies, while the slice of banana bread weighed heavily in my hands. I listened with deaf ears as Hugo shared studying tips, and Mary, partying tips. Craig warned her of the temptations she’d encounter, and Damien informed her of the stores she’d find near her. Brian brought his dog.

Before I knew it, Amanda was in the car starting up the engine.

We shared one last, awkward hug through the window. Amanda kissed my cheek. “I’ll text you everyday. Promise.”

“You don’t have to text me every day,” I reassured. “Just... Try to call me once in awhile, ok?”

Amanda stuck her tongue out at me. “Too late. The embers of my teenage rebellion have been fanned.”

“May the flames of your youth burn bright. They won’t burn forever you know, when you get to my age.”

She scoffed, “Try me. If I’m gonna be a parent, I’m gonna be the coolest parent in the world.” Softer, she said, “Just like you, dad.”

I smiled, trying not to cry again. I held out my fist. “Knock ‘em dead, kiddo.”

Amanda held out hers. “You know me, pops.” We fistbumped. I felt like the coolest dad in the world.

Amanda glanced at the wooden corgi on her dashboard, bobbling safely on the other end. “Thanks again for the dog, Mr Robert,” she said. “It’s super cool.” Robert stood behind me, chewing on his lollipop stick. He watched her for a long moment, his face unreadable.

Finally, “Robert,” he said.

Amanda grinned. “Robert,” she agreed. “Take care of my dad for me while I’m gone.”

This time, both sides of his mouth curved upwards. Robert smiled, fully, and said, “Sure thing, kid.”

“Amanda.”

“...Amanda.”

With that, Amanda drove off.

* * *

The moment Amanda’s car went out of my sight, everything felt like a fever dream. I don’t remember the first thing I did when I stepped into my house, or how much time had passed until now. But the moment I regained consciousness, I was sprawled across the couch, spooning a bowl of instant mac and cheese, drowning in the silence of the house while the TV played white noise into my ears.

No, no, be positive. Amanda’s going to college. My daughter’s becoming independent. She’s gonna do great. I’m so proud of her. So proud. I shovel a spoonful of mac and cheese into my mouth.

I forgot the bacon.

“Ugh,” I moaned.

And the breadcrumbs

“Ughhhhh.”

And the cheese.

I was eating cold, undercooked, plain pasta.

“Amandaaaaa—”

A car horn blared outside my door.

“AH JESUS CHRIST!” I shrieked. Regretfully, unlike myself, my mac sin queso remained safely on the couch. My mouth and bones groaning with age, I pushed myself off the floor, fumbling for my phone. I turned it on, and saw the culprit behind the noise.

_Hey_  
_Hey_  
_Hey I’m outside_  
_Come outside_  
_I know you’re ignoring me_  
_Get out here_  
_Don’t make me honk_  
_I will honk_  
_I’m gonna honk_  
_3_  
_2_  
_1_

_..._  
_I’m honking again_

“NO!” Bolting up, I staggered out the door.

There in my driveway at a surprising early hour (for him at least), was Robert. He was dressed back in his signature jacket and jeans, his sunglasses hanging down the collar of his shirt. His hair was combed and his clothes were freshly ironed. He stood leaning against his pick-up truck, a lollipop in his mouth, and a bottle of apple cider in his hand.

“Robert,” I mumbled, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, “why are you…”

Wait, I live alone now.

“Robert, what the fuck?”

He smirked. “I told’ya I’d honk.”


End file.
